Flowers for a Ghost
by Henpuku-Hime
Summary: Lilies that tremble, and one half of a whole. B/J, contains smut. character death.


They tremble in my hands. Pure white, delicately shaped. I remember you liking them, and it suits you. Flowers that aren't innocent at all, yet you worship them as if they were holy. Did you know these were believed to grow on rotting corpses in Asia? So pure, so lovely, hiding the revolting ugliness it feeds off of. Just like the city you so yearned to protect. Just like the city you died for.

Of course it's not the lilies that tremble. They were plucked ages ago, already starting to wither and rot away. I'm withering and rotting too, but I'm still alive, and I'm the one doing the trembling. I never trembled, I always shook. Yes. Shaking is a violent motion. Restless, furious, dangerous. Something shakes when it is bottling up too much inside, and is about to explode. Trembling is weak, and already dead. An explosion that has already long since reached it's climax.

As I sit here, sinking slightly into the mud, the rain beating down mercilessly, but not strongly. No, not mindlessly, fiercely, chaotically. Just constantly. Painfully dull. As I sit here, in front of your grave, I tremble.

Dear god batsy, how could you do this to me? Seriously? A mobster?

My silent complaints fade away though, dulled by the sheer fact that I've been sitting her for a few days now, and have argued against you in every single way I could think of various times already. A couple of feet forward there's a dead Hench clown. Yeah, I know you'd be angry, but you know, he just didn't know when to get the fuck off. It wasn't even funny, at all, hell, I think life just lost its punch line. (That would be you; stiff as a line and always punching.)

And all this time the same scene has been on replay. That delicious thunderstorm, when I saw you for the last time. I say you, because that limp doll they buried wasn't you at all. It was empty and boring. And dead. Oh, but you…

You were very much alive, and filled to the brim with emotion as you growled deeply, that way you do so well, voice dripping with raw want as you snarled something incomprehensible at me. Well, perhaps it was comprehensible, but I really wouldn't know, I wasn't exactly listening. Well sorry bats, but you're quite the vision when you're mad.

You threw me against the wall, gloved hands bruising my shoulder instantly, body pressing closely against mine, to keep me in place, you'd say. I wouldn't say anything, because for once, even the snarky Joker would be speechless, breathless at the overwhelming sight of your powerful, mighty physique, body barely contained by the straining black Kevlar, your skin-so pale, because you could really use a tan, but who am I to talk?- nearly shining in the dark, lips just that slight hint pinker than the rest, like peaches really, even if they were snarling and growling and pulled back in a feral sneer, and you'd probably put me in a body cast for suggesting the resemblance anyway, your cheekbones ever so flushed underneath the cowl.

Oh of course I knew who you were all along batsy, don't be stupid. Didn't I tell you Id always recognize that scowl? I'd recognize any square centimetre of you, from miles away.

And I panted, giggling ever so softly, not really because anything was funny, but because you were SO CLOSE and I needed you just that bit closer. I could feel your breath brush against my skin, warm, hot, human. Those brief seconds were the only ones I was ever actually convinced you were real. The others I simply didn't care if you were. I smiled, stretching my scars awkwardly, eyes half lidded, gazing into yours, sparkling. Call me a romantic but I'm fairly certain I felt butterflies in my stomach- well, butterflies or shots of pain, as what happened next was your knee being driven into my torso, fingers gripping my hair tightly as you jerked me against you like a limp doll, mouth claiming mine, perfection meeting scars, your jaws working against me as if we were still in some kind of fistfight, your every movement filled with sheer need, want, lust and desire as you pressed me back against the wall, pressing yourself back with me, hands clawing at my clothing like a madman as I did a fairly good job at smearing my makeup all over that lovely chin of yours, moaning softly since all of those models certainly didn't lie when they said Bruce Wayne's one hell of a kisser.

They did lie about other details though, saying how romantic and sweet and gentle you were. I dunno, but I doubt those little perfect dolls would appreciate having their faces slammed into the rough brick wall as you did mine, so eager to get me naked you tore my clothes right off, hands roaming over my back as you kissed my neck passionately, biting and sucking, causing me to shake against your shamefully larger frame, hands finding your hair and pulling, pulling at the roots as if it would bring you closer, pulling as if my life depended on it, pulling to challenge you, to beg you. I heard myself giggle breathlessly –voice shaky, always shaky, I always shook, now I tremble- And I heard you growl deep in your voice, low, and sort of painful sounding, really, I'm surprised your throat didn't die before the rest of you did, a sound which I've heard from you so many times, yet still mesmerizes me completely. You pressed against me then, and I briefly wondered when and how you'd gotten that armour of yours off, but was distracted by the fact that _you pressed against me_ and I felt the part of your body I perhaps love most pulse against my lower back. You were warm, hot even, thick shaft pulsing as blood streamed to it, live blood, real blood, and moist, as you leaked some pre-cum on me, causing me to groan in delight, pressing my behind against you questioningly, arching my back just enough to really turn you on, your large hand still gripping the roots of my faded green hair tightly, making sure there was no way Id turn my head.

You were probably scared Id ruin the moment for you with a joke, or a sneer. Oh bats, it just showed how little you really knew me. I wasn't thinking about jokes at all. All I was thinking about was that big, throbbing cock of yours, and how it was just wasting away in the air, while it should be fucking me into oblivion. But since you were still gripping me as if I would run away the second you'd let go, I decided to remind you of what needed to be done here, moaning loudly, rubbing myself against you a little.

You responded instantly, Turning me around and entering me in the same motion, causing me to scream as you stretched me brutally, not caring about that impossibly unimportant fine line between pain and pleasure, fingernails digging into my hips, holding me up as you slammed into me feverishly. My hands clawed at your harms, back arched as I looked into your eyes.

We both knew. I saw it in your eyes, and I know it was reflected in mine. We both felt it. This was starting to go bad. Our entire beings transpired it, the inevitable end. Id been getting into trouble with way too many gangsters and the police was starting to track you down. We knew how this was going to end. The only question in our eyes was who'd go first, which was followed instantly by the desire to be that person. To at least not be left without the other.

Oh batsy, if only Id held you there. We knew one of us, or both, would die sooner or later. If only Id captured you, stopped you from leaving, run far, far away. But we both knew it was unavoidable. We were two gods, ahead of their time.

You were groaning, shaking as you pumped into me again and again, shaking as a leaf. I don't know how or when, but sometime in between wed slipped to the floor, and I was lying on my back, you on top of me, pressed against me, staring at me. Your face was contorted with pleasure, beads of sweat rolling around the skin that barely hid the muscles underneath, to the entire world looking as if it would only take you a second to snap my neck, if you wanted to. I was moaning, and screaming, and repeating your name like a mantra. Over and over again. Bats, bats, bats, oh god bats, bats, _Bruce!_

Once Id mentioned your name, I noticed you were crying. You fucked me roughly, facial expression still the same, but you were crying, and your eyes showed me that you knew what was going to happen, and you couldn't bear the thought. I ignored your tears, because tears do not belong in our world, instead choosing to kiss you, passionately and needily. As if I was trying to suck out a bit of your soul, store it deep inside of me and keep it with me, forever, no matter what happened.

I remember the guy that killed you, I met him, once. A miserable nobody, working for some no-name gangster. Even so, that miserable nobody managed to shoot you, since the police was about to shoot him, and you were stupid enough to try and drag him out of the way. To save him. I don't know which bullet pierced you first; His, or the dozens the police sent into your god-like body. I don't know what they felt like, as they watched the bat fall. At their hands. I don't even know what I felt like. I dint even know what I feel like. I tremble.

Your mouth was at my neck now, biting, teasing, devouring. I screamed, feeling myself come closer and closer to the edge, nails scratching at your back like a cat about to drown, as you thrust into my sweet spot continuously, neither of us ever breaking off the eye contact. Your lean, muscular stomach was pressed against mine, legs intertwined as you seemed to do everything you could to be as close as possible, teeth gritting furiously while I continued my mantra.

Oh bats, bats, bats, _OOH BRUCE!_

As I came all over my own stomach, and yours, I wondered when I had stopped thinking of you as Batman alone, and started caring about Bruce. Don't get me wrong, Batman is the Jokers lover, and to him Bruce can go to hell, but to me…to Nobody, Bruce is everybody. And I wondered if it mattered, since Batman and the Joker would destroy us either way.

I could feel you pulsing inside of me now, achingly large, sweet, sweet cock buried deep inside of me, twitching as you came to the brink of an orgasm yourself, panting and moaning as I tightened around you on purpose, worshipping you with my mouth as I stared deep into your eyes, and for the first time in the world, I begged the gods.

Pease, please, oh god please don't take him away from me.

Eventually your self-control ran out, and you screamed wildly as you came deep inside of me, releasing your hot load in my meanwhile quite sore ass, your entire body shaking as I whimpered, hating the feeling that came over me as you pulled out, and out perfect unison was broken.

Like always, there was no cuddling afterwards, and I watched you get dressed and leave into the night with cloudy green eyes. You turned around a single time, eyes shining in the dark, and I had the privilege of watching tears stream out from underneath the cowl as your lips parted, expression hesitant. In the end you couldn't find the right words to say, and your silent plead was lost into the void as you turned and vanished. Yes, we both knew it was about to end. We were simply waiting to see who'd go first.

I tremble as I watch your grave. My eyes are dead. Not green, but grey. My limbs are heavy. My skin is cold. I have no anger left, nor sadness. And I'm waiting to die.

The lilies fall out of my hands, as they tremble too much, and I watch them, stained on the mud, on top of the earth covering your dead body. In the end I never told you Nobody's name, even if you always asked.

Bruce…I…


End file.
